The Calling
by Moonsong
Summary: ** SPOILER WARNING: Ep. 40 and on ** A stranger arrives to train young Sou Kishuku to become one of the legendary Suzaku Seishi. (Completed)
1. Arrival of a Stranger

@-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;---   
  
  
  
** SPOILERS FOR EP. 40 AND ON **   
  
  
  
@-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;---   
  
  
  
The Calling   
by Moonsong   
tsukinouta@yahoo.com   
  
Part 1: Arrival of a Stranger  
  
  
"O-BAKE-CH-AAAAN!"   
  
The taunting cry echoed in the street, barely concealing the   
whimper that followed.   
  
"Yamete!"   
  
Four boys, ages varying between seven and ten, had cornered a   
much smaller figure, huddled against the side walls of one of the   
many shops in the village. The younger boy whimpered, his back   
pressed up against the wooden planks, his small face scrunched in   
fear.   
  
"Bak-bak-bak-ba-KA!"   
  
"Stop it! Onegai..." To his dismay, fat tears slid down the boy's   
cheeks despite his attempts to blink them back. Real boys didn't   
cry after all. They had taught him that. The last time he'd cried   
in front of them, he'd gone home muddied and slightly battered,   
having been made to choke down handfuls of the black goo. That   
had been a mere two weeks ago. Hoping desperately not to have   
that "lesson" repeated, he scrunched his eyes shut, praying they   
wouldn't notice.   
  
Luck was not on his side.   
  
"Look! He's crying again!" came the mocking shout. "What a BABY!"   
  
"Yeah," another boy piped up. This was the largest one of them   
all- the one that had caused him to hide in his room like a   
frightened jackrabbit. "You're not just a freak, you're a girl!"   
  
Without warning, the tormented boy's forehead began to glow. A   
reddish light shone from some sort of pattern on the child's   
face.   
  
One of the bullies gasped. "Look! It's happening again!"   
  
As the four boys looked on, the Chinese symbol for "ogre"   
appeared on their victim's forehead. This is what had earned him   
the hated nickname in the first place. This symbol, glowing on   
his forehead for all the world to see. This was the cause of his   
pain. It's what made him different. And outcast. He hated the   
thing with a passion unfit for one so young.   
  
Then, from the shadows jumped a figure. "Stop," it commanded.   
  
The man had long, silvery hair, sharp eyes, and a chiseled face   
topping a wiry, yet well-muscled frame. His lips formed a   
predatory smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, his glare   
shooting daggers.   
  
The four boys backed down.   
  
"Gomen!"   
  
"I'm sorry!"   
  
"We weren't doing anything!" The leader shrank back, mock   
innocence shining from every pore.   
  
The man raised an eyebrow. That one certainly had spirit.   
However, so did he. Leaning down to their level, he shot the boy   
a withering glare. "If you don't leave this instant, I'll drag   
you into the forest and flog you until your eyes pop out of your   
fat little head."   
  
The bully's jaw dropped.   
  
"And," the stranger continued, straightening and fixing his cuffs   
boredly, "I can do it without leaving a mark on you so your   
parents never find out." His eyes caught the younger boy's again,   
his glare pure ice, "Don't doubt I can."   
  
The boy's eyes widened and he nodded in fear. With a quick glance   
at his cohorts, two of which were already retreating, he turned   
tail and ran.   
  
The stranger watched them sternly, long enough to ensure they   
were really leaving. With a sigh, he turned back to the boy,   
still quivering against the wall.   
  
"Hey, little one, it's all right now," he soothed, extending a   
hand out to him. The boy's eyes widened in fear and he shrunk   
even further away.   
  
The stranger frowned. This was certainly nothing that he had   
expected. If it weren't for the fact that he'd seen the seishi   
symbol with his own eyes, he would almost have believed he had   
found the wrong boy. That this future warrior was so cowed as to   
be afraid of him was a complication indeed.   
  
Seeming to come to a decision, the man dropped to one knee before   
the boy and offered his hand again.   
  
"My name is Lan-uan. What's yours?"   
  
The boy's eyes narrowed and he looked about furtively, as if   
expecting something to materialize from the empty street and eat   
him alive. When he had assured himself that they were indeed   
alone, he inched away from the wall, keeping his eyes on the   
strange man in front of him.   
  
"K-kishuku," he whispered.   
  
His voice was so soft, Lan could barely make out his words.   
Breathing a sigh of relief, he smiled, trying to look as friendly   
as possible.   
  
"Kishuku. That's a nice name," he stood slowly, careful not to   
rattle the child. Even then, his slight movement caused Kishuku   
to flinch.   
  
Lan smiled again. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. In   
fact, I'd like to teach you."   
  
The boy's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Teach me what?"   
  
"For one," he started, brushing the dust from his clothes, "how   
to defend yourself so those bullies stop harassing you."   
  
Kishuku nodded warily, his eyes still narrowed. "Yes..."   
  
"And another," Lan stepped forward and knelt again so he was face   
to face with the boy. "Haven't you always wanted to know what   
this means?" he asked gently, and tapped the boy's forehead with   
a callused finger.   
  
More than a little shocked, Kishuku backpedaled, nearly tripping   
over a rock in the process. Quick as a cat, Lan reached out and   
grabbed his arm, steadying him.   
  
After he had regained his balance, Kishuku stared at his savior,   
eyes widening. "You... you can tell me?"   
  
"Yes, I can. If you're willing to learn."   
  
The boy nodded.   
  
With an encouraging smile, Lan stood and offered his hand. "In   
that case, let's begin."   
  
Kishuku looked at the proffered hand, apprehension and curiosity   
warring upon his young features. Curiosity won out and he took   
the hand shakily.   
  
Lan nodded in approval and started to walk towards the boy's   
parents house. "You are the Suzaku Seishi, Tamahome..."   
  
  
~ TBC ~   
  
Author's Notes: This is may turn into a larger story... depending   
on the response I get or how inspiring Tamahome is. ^_~ Feedback   
onegai!   
  
Credits for this go to Felicia, aka Tomo no Miko, whose site I   
used to get the info regarding Tokaki, such as his real name,   
etc. *bows* Visit her site at:   
http://www.sempai.org/~felicia/fushigi.html   
  
Oh, and I posted this before Quicksilver could shred it. Any   
grammar problems, anywhere a . should be a , are all my fault.   
^_^ Thanks for the first look though, imouto!   
  
Disclaimer: All original materials belong to their respective   
owners. Fushigi Yuugi belongs to Watase Yuu and a bunch of big   
companies. No copyright infringement is intended. The story is   
mine and I would appreciate an email asking me for permission   
before posting it anywhere else.   
  
"The Calling" © August 3, 2000 by Moonsong. All Rights Reserved.   
http://www.midnightrevolution.org/moonsong/  



	2. Challenge Accepted

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** SPOILERS FOR EP. 40 AND ON **   
  
  
  
@-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;---   
  
  
  
The Calling   
By Moonsong   
tsukinouta@yahoo.com   
  
Part 2: Challenge Accepted  
  
  
For once, Kishuku was enjoying the walk home. No bullies, no one   
waiting to push him into mud puddles, no one making fun of him or   
his family; it almost felt like heaven. And it was all due to the   
white-haired stranger who strolled leisurely next to him.  
  
"Once the seven seishi are gathered, the miko can summon her god   
and save the world," the older man finished, glancing over at the   
young boy for his reaction.  
  
His forehead was lined with concentration as he absorbed the   
entire legend. "So, all this is to protect some girl?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I'm not risking my life for some stupid GIRL! If she's so   
special, she should be able to defend herself!"  
  
Lan couldn't help but laugh. The boy was standing in the middle   
of the street, hands on his hips, an indignant expression on his   
red face.  
  
"You WILL protect the miko and you WILL like it," he admonished,   
trying to look stern.  
  
"Iie!" the boy replied playfully, his eyes lighting while he   
tried to keep up his indignant pout.  
  
"Kishuku? Is that you?"   
  
The boy's face broke into a smile. "Hai, okaasan!" he called and   
bounded into one of the small huts lining the road.  
  
Lan paused a moment, then followed gingerly, taking care to duck   
under the low doorframe.  
  
The inside of the dwelling was dim, in contrast to the bright   
sunlight outside, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust.   
Once they did, he almost wished they hadn't. The place was   
shabby; the furniture, or what passed for it, was threadbare,   
some of it in desperate need of fixing. The walls were patchy, so   
thin in some places that sunlight streamed through the dirty   
straw.  
  
Still, it was not his place to judge; and Tamahome certainly   
seemed happy enough to be home. Smiling, he watched his young   
charge disappear into one of the rooms.  
  
"Kaasan! Tousan! I brought a friend!"  
  
"Kishuku! Hush! I just put your little broth-"  
  
The words froze in her throat as they emerged from the room. Her   
eyes fell upon the handsome stranger standing in the middle of   
their hut.  
  
Laughing, Kishuku let go of her hand and went over to Lan.   
"Sensei, this is my-"  
  
"Older sister, I'm sure," Lan interjected smoothly, taking the   
woman's hand and brushing it with his lips briefly.  
  
Kishuku's mother colored becomingly and she snatched her hand   
from his grasp, avoiding his gaze.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
"Boku wa Hahm Lan-uan," he answered, straightening. "I have come   
to teach your son. He has been chosen as one of the Suzaku   
Shichiseishi and-"  
  
"You will NOT do any such thing!" a masculine voice bellowed from   
the doorway.  
  
The little boy's face fell. "Otousan..."  
  
His father entered the room, eyes blazing. He did not like this   
stranger telling him what to do with his son and he definitely   
didn't like the look the other man was giving HIS wife. Crossing   
the small room in an instant, he planted himself slightly in   
front of his wife, eyeing the interloper icily. "He is not to be   
trained."  
  
Lan was appalled. Tamahome... not be trained? The idea was   
preposterous... unthinkable! Did these people not realize the   
honor bestowed upon them by their very god?  
  
His emotions must have leaked into his expression for Kishuku's   
mother started walking towards him, an apologetic smile on her   
face. "Hahm-san, you must understand, our family is poor and we   
simply cannot afford to have Kishuku trained to become this   
warrior you speak of."  
  
Immediately, her husband's glare transferred onto her. She looked   
away. Lan noticed as well but chose to ignore it.   
  
"Iie," he began, "you would not have to pay for this training. It   
is my duty to teach your son; to prepare him for the time when he   
must defend his country and his miko."  
  
"You will do no such thing!" the other man repeated vehemently.   
"You will not take our eldest son away from us, to perish in some   
holy war. Find your seishi somewhere else!"  
  
By now, Kishuku was close to tears. "Otousan," he pleaded,   
"onegai..."  
  
Lan stood his ground. "I cannot do that. Seishi are chosen by   
their gods and are marked as such. I do not control who   
Suzakuseikun chooses, any more than you can. You must understand,   
this is a great honor for your family-"  
  
"Iie!"   
  
That was it. Lan's patience evaporated and he fixed the   
confounded man with an icy glare of his own. "Whether you like it   
or not, whether you accept it or not, your boy IS a Suzaku Seishi   
and he WILL fight when the time comes. If you want to send him   
into battle untrained and defenseless, that is your choice but I   
do not want the blood of this child on my hands because you   
refused to let me train him!"  
  
The other man backed away slightly, surprised by this outburst.   
He didn't know what to think. "I-I think you should leave now,   
Hahm-san..."   
  
Lan deflated, his anger leaving in a rush. Dammit. He shouldn't   
have lost control like this. He shouldn't have...  
  
Sadly, he looked down at Kishuku, the boy's mournful gaze meeting   
his. He looked away, unable to meet those dark eyes. He'd failed   
the boy. He'd failed Suzaku.  
  
A soft voice interrupted his thoughts. "Hahm-san?"  
  
It was Kishuku's mother. By the four gods, he did not want them   
to see him like this. Suddenly, leaving sounded like a very good   
idea.  
  
"Hai," he said softly. "I will go." He turned towards the   
doorway, then paused and looked back. He couldn't leave without   
trying at least one more time. He owed Tamahome at least that.   
"Please think upon what I have said. This is a grave situation   
and I am looking out for your son's best interests."  
  
The father nodded slowly and Lan took himself out of the house.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
"You'd think being a seishi would have taught me to not be so   
d*mned ^&*%ing STUPID!"  
  
Lan growled and drove his fist into one of the wooden beams   
supporting the roof above his porch. The entire structure shook.  
  
The front door opened and closed. Lan rested his forehead on the   
warm wood, shutting his eyes in frustration. Two arms encircled   
him from behind, holding him gently.  
  
"Daijoubu," she said, her voice muffled against his back. "You   
will try again tomorrow."  
  
The figure moved to his side, keeping a comforting arm around his   
waist. Sighing softly, Lan rested his head on hers, allowing   
himself to relax.   
  
"Sensei!"  
  
The breathless voice drew him out of his reverie. He shot up and   
hurried down the steps and into the street.  
  
"Kishuku, what are you doing out here? How did you find me?"  
  
The boy shrugged. "I followed you."  
  
Lan frowned. "Your father would not be pleased."  
  
"I know," came the defiant reply. "But he doesn't understand. I   
WANT to be a seishi. I want to learn."  
  
"Kishuku..."  
  
"Iie!" The boy stamped his feet and stared at the older seishi,   
determination setting his mouth in a grim line. "Iie," he   
declared quietly. "I want to be called Tamahome."  
  
  
~ TBC ~   
  
Author's Notes: *points an accusatory finger at the ML* See what   
happens when you people write me? See? I hope you guys are happy!   
^_~ Anyway, I don't know how much longer I can keep this up but   
let me tell you, feedback helps! A LOT! So use it!   
  
Credits for this go to Felicia, aka Tomo no Miko, whose site I   
used to get the info regarding Tokaki, such as his real name,   
etc. *bows* Visit her site at:   
http://www.sempai.org/~felicia/fushigi.html   
  
Also, HUGE hugs to Laurelgand and Quicksilver, both of whom I   
grilled for information on the oh-so-lecherous one and his past   
with our dear seishi. Thanks for putting up with my incessant   
questioning you guys! ^_^ Oh, Laurel also gave me the idea to   
have Tokaki flirt with Tama's mum a bit. Thanks again! ^_^  
  
Oh, and again, I'm posting this before Q could beta so all   
mistakes, grammar errors, and such are mine, mine, MINE! You   
can't have them! Lyra did give it a once-over though just to make   
sure I haven't completely disgraced myself. Arigato imouto-chan!  
  
Disclaimer: All original materials belong to their respective   
owners. Fushigi Yuugi belongs to Watase Yuu and a bunch of big   
companies. No copyright infringement is intended. The story is   
mine and I would appreciate an email asking me for permission   
before posting it anywhere else.   
  
The Calling © August 5, 2000 by Moonsong. All Rights Reserved.   
http://www.midnightrevolution.org/moonsong/  



	3. Chasing Shadows

@-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;---   
  
  
  
** SPOILERS FOR EP. 40 AND ON **   
  
  
  
@-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;---   
  
  
The Calling   
By Moonsong   
tsukinouta@yahoo.com   
  
  
Part 3: Chasing Shadows   
  
Kishuku skipped home, whistling a cheerful tune. He wasn't a   
freak. The symbol that had caused him so much pain had a purpose;   
and not just any purpose, possibly one of the noblest and most   
honorable in the entire country. He was a Suzaku shichiseishi- a   
legendary warrior. Sighing dreamily, Kishuku stopped a moment and   
closed his eyes. It felt good to be part of something.   
  
"My, you seem happy evening," his mother remarked as he entered   
the hut. Smiling at her son, she bustled about preparing their   
food. "You should wash up for supper. Did you remember to bring   
the water in?"   
  
Kishuku smacked his forehead and looked up at her sheepishly.   
"Aiee, I forgot. I left the buckets by the well when those boys   
started chasing me earlier." At her questioning look, he forced a   
smile. "Ne, I'll go get it."   
  
"Iie," a gruff voice sounded from the doorway. "I already got   
them."   
  
Kishuku's face flamed. As soon as he had been old enough, he had   
begged his parents to let him help around the house. His mother   
had originally thought him too young but he had surprised them by   
taking two of the water buckets out one day and fetching water   
for the night. The well was not far but he had been proud of his   
accomplishment. Ever since then, the job had been his.   
  
The expression on his father's shuttered face made it clear that   
whatever trust he had placed in his young son had been diminished   
somewhat and Kishuku flushed in embarrassment and shame. "Ah,   
gomen, tousan... I-"   
  
His father's next words chipped the little boy's heart.   
  
"I hope, that when you become a Suzaku seishi, you are not as   
careless as you are around here."   
  
With that, he disappeared into the parental bedroom, leaving an   
open-mouthed Kishuku shocked at the table. His eyes felt hot and   
he blinked quickly, his eyes still glued to the now shut door.   
  
"Kishuku,"   
  
His mother's gentle voice nudged those hot tears until they   
leaked from his eyes unwillingly. Embarrassed, he brushed his   
face with one sleeve, as much to dry it as to hide it from view.   
  
A swish of cloth, and she was kneeling before him, cuddling him   
against her shoulder. "Kishuku," she repeated as he shivered in   
her arms, "your father is just worried about you. He doesn't want   
you to get hurt."   
  
Another half-choked sob. "I know." He looked up at her   
pleadingly, dark bangs flopping over his young face. With those   
saddened eyes and lost expression, she was almost reduced to   
tears at the sight of her little baby hurting this way. It was   
worse than when he had returned from the store a few weeks ago   
muddied and bruised. After she had tended his hurts, all that   
had been wounded was his pride. This, she could tell, was going   
to take much longer to heal.   
  
His tiny arms tightened around her neck and he tucked his head   
under her chin. "Are you mad at me too, okaasan?"   
  
The answer was immediate. "Iie!" Frowning, she pulled away and   
held him at arms' length, her eyes boring into his. "Kishuku, no   
matter where life leads you, or whatever happens to you, we will   
always be right beside you. Don't ever forget that."   
  
"Even tousan?"   
  
She pulled him back into her embrace, cradling him like the baby   
he still was, no matter how much he'd grown. "Hai," she   
whispered, "even tousan."   
  
The little boy nodded and, after a moment, climbed off her lap.   
"Ne, I'm a little tired now. Can I go to sleep?"   
  
She nodded and watched as he flashed her a sad little smile   
before padding softly to his room. With a sigh, she stood and   
started putting the food away so they could save it for tomorrow.   
She had lost her appetite anyway, a condition everyone in the   
house seemed to be suffering from except for the youngest,   
Chuuei. Even now, she could hear the baby cry as his dinner was   
delayed a few moments.   
  
Frowning, she headed for the baby's room, mentally rehearsing the   
thrashing she was going to give her husband as soon as she had   
fed her other son. The night promised to be a long one.   
  
~*~*~*~*~   
Breakfast the next morning was a sordid affair. His father ate   
slowly, refusing to meet Kishuku's pleading gaze from across the   
table. The boy's food stayed, for the most part, untouched, not   
that the fare was terribly exciting; it was the leftovers from   
last night. Chuuei was squealing up a storm in the next room,   
adding to the tension.   
  
"Kishuku."   
  
He all but jumped out of his seat. "H-hai, otousan?"   
  
"You are not to go anywhere near that stranger, today, or until I   
say so. Do you understand?"   
  
The boy's face fell. "Hai."   
  
"Look at me when I'm talking to you! Do you understand?"   
  
Something in the boy cracked and his body tensed in response.   
Slowly, his eyes raised but the expression in them was anything   
but compliant.   
  
"Hai, tousan," he managed through gritted teeth. "Wakarimasu."   
  
His father flared. "Don't take that voice with me, young man. I   
am still the head of this family. I have raised you, I have   
provided for you. The least you can do is show me a little   
respect."   
  
Kishuku's eyes strayed to the floor and stayed there. After a few   
tense moments, the chair across the table toppled. He looked up   
just in time to catch a glimpse of the older man disappearing out   
the door. Immediately, his shoulders sagged, the pent-up   
frustration dissipating with his father's departure.   
  
His options were few. He could either run mope around the house,   
waiting for his mother to send him out on some errand, thus   
inviting another encounter with his four "friends," or he could   
find Hahm-sensei and start getting on with his life.   
  
The choice wasn't difficult.   
  
With a jaunty step and a heart lighter than it had been the last   
few weeks, he grabbed one last piece of bread and skipped out of   
the house, taking care to hug his mother on the way out. She   
didn't question it. She understood.   
  
With one last wave, she watched her son stroll down the street to   
meet a stranger who would presumably make a warrior out of him.   
Against his father's wishes, without him knowing, but with her   
approval. She sighed heavily and hoped she knew what she was   
doing.   
  
~*~*~*~*~   
Kishuku stood in front of the well-kept house, puzzled. No one   
was home. He'd tried the door, the backyard, even a little of the   
forest beyond without results. A bit dejected, he plopped down on   
the front steps to wait. Maybe they had stepped out for a bit...   
  
Fifteen minutes passed and Kishuku was starting to think he had   
made a big mistake. Maybe Hahm-sensei had realized he was unfit   
to be a seishi and left. Or maybe he had gotten hurt and was   
lying in the road somewhere! No, the older man could take care of   
himself. Couldn't he? He was working himself into a little ball   
of worry when he finally heard footsteps on the front walk.   
  
"Kishuku!" called an unfamiliar female voice. "What are you doing   
here?"   
  
He jumped up, startled. The woman looked at him kindly and   
motioned towards the door. "My name is Dourim, Lan's wife. Why   
don't you come on in?"   
  
Kishuku nodded and scrambled up hastily. After a moment of   
hesitation, he plucked at the lady's sleeve.   
  
"Do you need help with those?" he asked shyly.   
  
She smiled warmly. "Thank you." Shifting slightly, she handed him   
one of the lighter bags and disappeared inside.   
  
"What were you doing out there anyway?" she asked as they put   
away the food.   
  
"I was waiting for Hahm-sensei. He said yesterday he would teach   
me..."   
  
To his surprise, she laughed. "Didn't you see him outside?"   
  
Kishuku shook his head, puzzled. "Iie, I looked around the house,   
behind it, and even in the forest!" he exclaimed, rather proud at   
being so thorough.   
  
Dourim regarded him, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Did you ever   
think to look... up?"   
  
The boy blinked. "Up?" he repeated.   
  
With a light chuckle, Dourim took his hand and led him back   
outside. At the entrance of the yard was a large tree, a rather   
magnificent speciman Kishuku had used to landmark the house.   
Stopping at the base of the trunk, she craned her neck upwards,   
aiming her voice at the thick branches.   
  
"Lan! You get your worthless, no-good, hentai behind down here   
this instant!"   
  
Kishuku jumped. That was the second time she had startled him out   
of his wits today. She smiled reassuringly at him then frowned as   
a movement from above made both of them look up.   
  
A lithe figure swung down from the branches, to land next to them   
as silently as a cat. Smirking, he flashed Kishuku an impish   
smile, simultaneously ducking the blow his wife aimed at his   
head.   
  
"Ohayo, little seishi."   
  
The little boy's jaw dropped. He'd been sitting out here Suzaku   
knows how long, worrying and fretting, and all the while, the man   
he had been searching for had been sitting up there in that tree?   
No doubt watching him as well. The thought brought fire in his   
veins.   
  
"You've been sitting there the whole time and didn't SAY   
anything?" he blurted before thinking.   
  
Lan's eyes narrowed, his gaze hard. "First lesson. Never assume   
someone's not there just because you can't see them."   
  
Dourim chose that moment to make a quiet exit and retreat into   
the house. Kishuku didn't even notice her departure, his full   
concentration on his teacher and the stern rebuke in his eyes.   
  
Lan held his stare. "Let's begin."   
  
  
~ TBC ~   
  
Author's Notes: So I'm dragging this out. *evil grin* Want more?   
Let me know! tsukinouta@yahoo.com   
  
Credits for this go to Felicia, aka Tomo no Miko, whose site I   
used to get the info regarding Tokaki, such as his real name,   
etc. *bows* Visit her site at:   
http://www.sempai.org/~felicia/fushigi.html   
  
Again, many hugs and plushies go to Quicksilver for the thorough   
(and speedy) beta and to Laurelgand for putting up with my   
incessant questioning. Also to Lyra, Gerald, Night~Mare, and   
everyone in CL for the encouragement. Thanks minna!!   
  
Disclaimer: All original materials belong to their respective   
owners. Fushigi Yuugi belongs to Watase Yuu and a bunch of big   
companies. No copyright infringement is intended. The story is   
mine and I would appreciate an email asking me for permission   
before posting it anywhere else.   
  
Copyright © August 13, 2000 by Moonsong. All Rights Reserved.   
http://www.midnightrevolution.org/moonsong/  



	4. Crossing the Bridge

@-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;---   
  
  
  
** SPOILERS FOR EP. 40 AND ON **   
  
  
  
@-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;---   
  
  
The Calling   
By Moonsong   
tsukinouta@yahoo.com   
  
  
Part 4: Crossing the Bridge  
  
"You want me to cross THAT?"  
  
Tamahome shook his head in disbelief. The bridge, if one could   
call it that, was a narrow slab of wood, no more than three   
inches in width, slung across a wide and very angry looking   
river.  
  
Lan crossed his arms in front of his chest and narrowed his   
already cat-like eyes. "What's the matter? If you fall, you'll   
only land in the water."  
  
Tama looked at him in shock. "With Suzaku only knows how many   
rocks and boulders! And how deep is the river anyway?"  
  
"So don't fall."  
  
"But that thing is barely wide enough for my feet!"  
  
This teacher sighed. With a glare that could melt glass, he   
strode purposefully to the bridge and crossed to the other side   
without wavering. The wood shook a little but held.  
  
Tamahome gasped.  
  
"If that thing can hold me," Lan rumbled, "it most certainly can   
support a little runt like you."  
  
The barb had the desired effect and the little boy clenched his   
fists determinedly. If his teacher could do it, then so could he.   
He stared out at the narrow piece of wood again, trying not to   
think of how, in a few moments, his life would depend on the   
seemingly fragile sapling. Cautiously, he approached the slab and   
gingerly set one foot on it. It shook a bit and Tama was hard-  
pressed to follow that foot with another. He swallowed painfully   
and levered his other foot onto the bridge.  
  
"Come on! I don't have all day!"  
  
Tamahome would have glared, had his eyes not been glued to   
keeping his feet on the wood. As it was, he snarled and slid his   
front foot forward, shuffling the other quickly behind it.   
Another shuffle and he was off the bank, the water raging below   
him. He scuttled forward another step.  
  
"Is that the way you normally walk? If it is, it would take you   
all day to get ten feet! Just keep your eyes forward and go!"  
  
"Easy for you to say!" Tama shot back, finally fixing his teacher   
with a glare all his own. Immediately, he lost his balance and   
wobbled on the thin tree. "Eeeeeeek!" Tamahome dropped to his   
knees, clutching the bark for a dear life. His eyes squeezed shut   
and sweat poured down his face in fear.  
  
Across the way, Lan was laughing. "Sweet Suzaku, you squeal like   
a little girl!"  
  
"It's not funny!" the boy whimpered, raising his face towards the   
voice. His eyes remained shut and he willed himself to not give   
in and bawl right then and there. He had never been more afraid   
in his life.  
  
"Come on you. Stop playing around and get over here."  
  
The boy sighed in resignation. Slowly, one eye cracked open, then   
the other and Tamahome pulled himself to his feet. Carefully   
regaining his balance, he stood, keeping his arms to his sides   
and trying not to look at the hungry current below.  
  
"Tamahome!"  
  
"What?" he called back, his eyes still glued to his feet.  
  
"Look at me!"  
  
"What?!"  
  
"You heard me!"  
  
Stifling another whimper, Tamahome raised his head slowly,   
finally meeting his teacher's intense gaze.  
  
"Now walk."  
  
A whimper escaped. "I can't..."   
  
"Yes, you can. Just put one foot in front of the other and go!"  
  
Tamahome dropped his eyes to the wood and gingerly lifted a foot.  
  
"Tamahome! Look at me!"  
  
He put his foot back down shakily and flashed Lan an annoyed   
glance. "I can't do it if I can't see where I'm putting my feet!"  
  
Lan sighed with impatience. "If you aren't on my side of the   
river by the time I count to ten, I'm going to walk right out of   
here and not train you. A coward is not fit to be a seishi."  
  
"I'm not a coward!"  
  
"Prove it."  
  
Biting his lip, Tamahome gingerly took one step forward.   
  
"One..."  
  
He took another.  
  
"Two... come on, I'm not getting any younger here."  
  
Taking a deep breath, Tamahome fixed Lan with a glare and took   
two hurried steps forward.  
  
"Three, four, five..."  
  
"You're cheating!"  
  
"Yes, I am. Now hurry up."  
  
Frustrated, Tamahome clenched his fists and strode forward. About   
three-fourths of the way, his foot slipped off and he plunged   
down.  
  
"Sensei!!" This was it. He was going to die. A roar filled his   
ears and he screamed in denial. No! This couldn't be happening!   
  
A strong hand clamped around his wrist and he felt himself being   
pulled up. Once back on the narrow wood, he opened his eyes   
wonderingly and stared at his savior.  
  
"Sensei?"  
  
"You didn't think I was going to let you fall now, did you?"  
  
Tamahome shook his head dumbly, his body trembling with relief.  
  
Lan laughed and cuffed him lightly. "Baka. Now that that's   
settled, you want to walk the rest of the way so we can go on to   
something else? You DO want to get trained before you're too old   
to become a seishi, ne Obake-chan?"  
  
The fire returned and Lan backed away towards the bank. "What did   
you call me?" the boy yelled. His entire body sank into a defiant   
stance and he righted himself on the narrow bridge.  
  
"Obake-chan," Lan smirked, knowing full well what type of a   
reaction his words were invoking. "Wanna do something about it?"  
  
"Yes." Gritting his teeth, Tamahome fixed his stare at his   
smirking sensei and strode purposefully to the other side of the   
river. He never wavered and never looked down.  
  
  
~ TBC ~   
  
Author's Notes: The first lesson is over! What did you think? Can   
you see this happening or am I totally off the mark? This   
deranged mind is dying to know! tsukinouta@yahoo.com   
  
Credits for this go to Felicia, aka Tomo no Miko, whose site I   
used to get the info regarding Tokaki, such as his real name,   
etc. *bows* Visit her site at:   
http://www.sempai.org/~felicia/fushigi.html   
  
More hugs to Quicksilver for the river idea and the suggestions.   
Don't worry, I've got more river training planned. ^_~ Thanks for   
the late night brainstorms imouto!  
  
Disclaimer: All original materials belong to their respective   
owners. Fushigi Yuugi belongs to Watase Yuu and a bunch of big   
companies. No copyright infringement is intended. The story is   
mine and I would appreciate an email asking me for permission   
before posting it anywhere else.   
  
Copyright © August 27, 2000 by Moonsong. All Rights Reserved.   
http://www.midnightrevolution.org/moonsong/  



	5. A Fighter's Heart

@-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;---   
  
  
  
** SPOILERS FOR EP. 40 AND ON **   
  
  
  
@-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;---   
  
  
The Calling   
By Moonsong   
tsukinouta@yahoo.com   
  
  
Part 5: A Fighter's Heart  
  
THUMP!!  
  
"Again!"  
  
THWAP!!  
  
"Harder!"  
  
THUNK- CRASH!!!  
  
Silence.   
  
After a few moments, Tamahome blinked, eyes fixed on the wreck of   
a practice bag in front of him.   
  
"Ne, sensei..." he began, his voice wavering slightly, "was that   
good enough?"  
  
Lan stared at the pile of sand and cloth littering his once clean   
dojo. Dourim was going to have a fit when she returned.   
  
"H-hai..." the older man began, trying to hide his astonishment.   
By Suzaku, HE'D been trying to get that bag down for WEEKS, let   
alone explode the thing all over the floor. He eyed his young   
student with growing respect.  
  
The boy mistook his silence for anger. "Ah... gomen, sensei. I   
can clean it up."  
  
Snapping out of his reverie, Lan looked up and met the boy's eyes   
squarely. "No apology needed. You've done well!" A smile lighting   
his lips, he walked over and patted the young seishi on the back   
sharply, causing him to cough.  
  
Lan smiled. "I think that's enough for today. Why don't you come   
with me into town to buy materials for a new bag?"  
  
Tamahome's eyes brightened. "Hai!"   
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The trip to the market was a relatively uneventful one. Tamahome   
waited just inside one of the cloth stalls, wide eyes gazing at   
the rare silks and brocades. His family could never afford to   
shop here, let alone buy canvas from such an obviously wealthy   
merchant. He took it all in, as a starving man would a palace   
feast.  
  
Lan finished paying for his purchase and caught the boy's   
expression. "Something wrong?"  
  
Tama jumped, surprised. "Iie, it's just that these are so   
nice..." His words faltered when he spotted a familiar figure   
pushing a heavily laden wheelbarrow out in the road. He froze in   
fear and pushed closer against the heavy fabrics.  
  
Alarmed, Lan squatted on the floor next to him, trying to find   
out what was wrong. "Kishuku..."   
  
The boy's eyes were frightened. "Tousan..."  
  
Sharply, Lan raised his head and had no trouble picking out the   
boy's father making his way down the street. Quickly he moved   
slightly between his student and the doorway, partially blocking   
it from view.  
  
"He's on his way to the other side of the market. I highly doubt   
he saw you."  
  
The boy didn't respond. Exasperated, Lan sighed and grabbed the   
Tama's arm, yanking him out from where he was practically buried   
in the soft silks.  
  
"Come on!" he hissed, keeping his voice well out of the   
merchant's hearing range. "Is that any way for a seishi of Suzaku   
to act? Are you going to panic every time something unexpected   
happens?"  
  
The mention of Suzaku's name awakened the boy's senses, as Lan   
had hoped. Whirling, Tamahome wrenched his arm from his teacher's   
grasp.  
  
"Iie."  
  
The fire was back in his eyes. Trying not to smile, Lan forced   
his features back into a stern glare.  
  
"Just for that, you will have to race me home. And with one of   
these strapped to your back!" Smirking, Lan help up the smaller   
of the two bolts of cloth he was carrying. "You think you're up   
to it, little seishi?"  
  
Tamahome's eyes narrowed with mirth. "You're on."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The brat was winning. Cursing, Lan puffed a bit harder and   
pushed his taxed legs further. He HAD to catch up with the little   
dark-haired imp laughing a few feet ahead of him. Damned if he   
would actually let him WIN.  
  
"Sensei!" the imp taunted. "You're getting old!"  
  
Lan growled under his breath and shifted the bulky cloth to a   
better position on his broad shoulders. It wasn't fair. The boy   
had a smaller bolt. Of course he'd be faster. Studiously ignoring   
the annoying voice in his head reminding him he was far older   
than the boy and therefore should have the bigger load, he pushed   
on.  
  
As expected, the younger seishi reached the tree first. He was   
leaning on the broad trunk, a triumphant smirk on his innocent   
face, by the time his huffing teacher caught up. Lan took one   
look at his face and growled. Ignoring the boy completely, he   
shouldered the cloth and disappeared into the house...  
  
... only to retreat again red-faced. Clutching the canvas, he   
waved the boy off in the direction of the river, following after   
him in a stumbling run. Behind them, the door to the house   
slammed open.  
  
"HAHM LAN-UAN!! You get back here and clean this mess up this   
instant!"  
  
With renewed vigor, Lan pumped his legs, laughing at his fuming   
wife. He easily passed a now-winded Tamahome and skidded to a   
stop at the riverbank.  
  
A few minutes later, he was lounging on the other side of the   
river, watching amusedly as his pupil staggered into the   
clearing, holding the bolt of cloth in his arms.  
  
"What took you so long?"  
  
The boy glared. "Dourim-san caught up with me and told me to kick   
you when I got here."  
  
The feral smile on Lan's face grew wider. "Then you're going to   
have to come over here and do it then."  
  
Tamahome blanched, his eyes following the raging current up to   
that confounded branch his teacher liked to call a bridge. 'Not   
again...'  
  
Stretching out on the opposite bank, Lan yawned and arranged   
himself comfortably on the grass. He knew what was going through   
the boy's mind and chuckled, lips falling into a devilish smirk.  
  
"Don't fall."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
That evening found Lan out on the porch, in his hands- a cup of   
tea sending out wisps of steam into the cool night air. His   
thoughts roved over the day's events, stopping when they reached   
memory of what happened at the cloth merchant's. Sipping his tea   
with a slight frown, he remembered the appearance of Kishuku's   
father, and the boy's reaction to it.  
  
Tamahome had been frightened. He had cowered on the spot the   
second he saw his father. Lan shook his head. That would never   
do.  
  
A soft whisper of cloth alerted him to her presence.  
  
"Are you thinking about Tamahome?"  
  
"Hai."  
  
He turned briefly and set the cup down, allowing her to float in   
his arms. Her scent was of the woods and wildflowers, surrounding   
him, calming him, as she nodded and held him gently. After a few   
moments, he spoke again.  
  
"We saw his father in the marketplace earlier..." he paused.  
  
"And?"  
  
Lan broke away and started pacing, frustration lining his sinewy   
frame. "He FROZE. He just stood there and HID. How is he supposed   
to protect the miko if he's afraid of his own father?"  
  
Quickly, Dourim moved to calm him. "He is young still. He'll   
learn."  
  
Lan stopped pacing and leaned back on the rail. "He has enormous   
potential. But I'm afraid of what will happen if his family   
doesn't support him in this. Even though he wants this enough to   
defy his father and be trained, he might falter later on."  
  
Dourim quietly joined him at the rail and tilted her face up   
towards the stars. "Then his father will have to be dealt with."  
  
"Hai."  
  
With that, Lan gently placed an arm around his wife's shoulders   
and followed her gaze to the stars. Suzaku couldn't have chosen   
wrong. One way or another, Tamahome's father had to be made to   
understand.   
  
  
~ TBC ~   
  
Author's Notes: Ugh! I'm just glad this chapter's over! Feedback   
onegai! tsukinouta@yahoo.com   
  
Credits for this go to Felicia, aka Tomo no Miko, whose site I   
used to get the info regarding Tokaki, such as his real name,   
etc. *bows* Visit her site at:   
http://www.sempai.org/~felicia/fushigi.html   
  
Thanks to Quicksilver as always and Saishi for the beta, also to   
everyone who's encouraged me with this fic. Arigato minna! *hugs*  
  
Disclaimer: All original materials belong to their respective   
owners. Fushigi Yuugi belongs to Watase Yuu and a bunch of big   
companies. No copyright infringement is intended. The story is   
mine and I would appreciate an email asking me for permission   
before posting it anywhere else.   
  
Copyright © October 8, 2000 by Moonsong. All Rights Reserved.   
http://www.midnightrevolution.org/moonsong/  



	6. Life's Lessons

@-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;---   
  
  
  
** SPOILERS FOR EP. 40 AND ON **   
  
  
  
@-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;---   
  
  
The Calling   
By Moonsong   
tsukinouta@yahoo.com   
  
  
Part 6: Life's Lessons  
  
Tamahome squirmed. It was hot and cramped in this uncomfortable   
place, not to mention dirty. He and Lan had inched their way   
under the latter's house and were currently suffocating under the   
wooden floorboards.   
  
"Now, the trick to this is not to make a sound. Be aware of your   
surroundings. Be in control of your body. If we were in enemy   
territory, one brush with a stray rock or a dried twig can be   
fatal."  
  
Just then, Dourim entered the living room, standing directly   
above her husband.   
  
"Whoo, baby! Looking good!"  
  
Tamahome raised an eyebrow as Dourim looked around the room   
warily, searching for the voice. He could barely make out her   
figure between the wooden slats and he was wondering what on   
earth had come over his teacher.  
  
"Ne, sensei," he began.  
  
"Shhhh! She'll hear you!"  
  
Tamahome sweatdropped. 'As if she wouldn't have heard you yelling   
from below...' he thought crossly.  
  
She stood over her husband again, giving him full view of her...   
erm... pretty new dress. He whistled appreciatively. A small   
smile crept into her face and she brought her foot down onto the   
wood sharply, sending dust and dirt into his leering face.  
  
Her reward was an anguished scream. "Itai!!" With a satisfied   
smirk, she crossed the room and proceeded to dust the furniture.  
  
Underneath the house, Lan was choking and crying, his eyes   
squinted shut. Tamahome tried not to laugh. After a few moments   
of frantic scrubbing, his teacher opened red, irritated eyes and   
frowned.  
  
"You think that's funny, do you?"  
  
The boy hid his face, swallowing a chuckle. As hard as his   
teacher was, he couldn't help liking it when someone got the   
better of him, especially when that someone was his own wife.   
  
Tamahome and Dourim had struck up a warm friendship the last few   
weeks. She was generally the one he went crying to whenever   
something Lan had made him do had gotten him hurt. She never   
fussed over him, unlike his mother, but she did look out for him   
in her own way.  
  
And the way she handled his teacher was nothing short of   
masterful.  
  
Choking on another snicker, Tamahome scrambled to one corner of   
the basement on all fours.  
  
"Tamahome!"  
  
"Lan!"  
  
The older man jerked back as if on a choke chain. "Hn?"  
  
"You leave that boy alone or I'll-"  
  
Lan smirked. "You'll what?"  
  
Tama's eyes widened as the ceiling shook violently, raining dust   
and other things he didn't want to think about around them. By   
her heartless stomping, she sounded pissed enough to tear up the   
floorboards- which is exactly what she did. An arm reached down   
and grabbed Lan by one gold hoop earring.  
  
"ITAI!!"  
  
"You," she hissed, shaking the offended ear for emphasis, "are a   
bad influence."  
  
"Matte!"  
  
Tama laughed outright, earning a glare from his trapped teacher.  
  
"And you!" she continued, pinning him with her gaze.   
  
The boy gulped.  
  
"You get on home. You need a few hours off and my husband here is   
getting a little out of hand."  
  
"Am NOT!"  
  
"Hush!"  
  
The young seishi smiled. "Arigato, Dourim-san. Mata na, sensei?"  
  
Lan nodded with a resigned sigh. He knew when he was beat. "Hai.   
Tomorrow."  
  
With a wave, the boy was off. As soon as he was out of earshot,   
Dourim turned to her husband sternly.  
  
Lan blinked. "What?"  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Tadaima!"  
  
Kishuku stepped into the dim room brightly, pausing to hang his   
coat on a wall peg. He'd gotten home early for once- thanks to   
Dourim. It was rather nice to come home without having bruised   
something recently.  
  
He was just about to wander into the kitchen when his mother came   
bustling out of it hurriedly.  
  
"Kishuku!" she exclaimed in hushed tones. "Your father is ill and   
had to come home early. I told him you were out in the yard and I   
had sent you to the village for medicine."  
  
The boy's eyes widened. "Is he all right?"  
  
"Yes, he's fine. He just needs something for pain. Now go before   
he hears you!"  
  
"Hai," he nodded and scampered off.   
  
Ai-wei watched her small son with growing trepidation. She had   
just asked him to deceive his father- while he lay in the other   
room sick. But it was all for the best, wasn't it? Sighing, she   
turned away from the door and padded softly to the kitchen,   
uncertainty lacing every step. She dearly hoped she was doing the   
right thing.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
It was getting dark. Kishuku had made it to the herbalist before   
the sun started setting but the doddering old man had taken   
forever mixing the concoction. By the time he had made it out,   
the sun had already started to set. Clutching the packet to his   
chest, he darted out into the street, hoping to make it home   
unaccosted.  
  
Luck was not on his side. Moments later, the call he was dreading   
came.  
  
"Obake-chan!"  
  
His eyes swept the street. Nothing.   
  
"We haven't seen you in a while, Obake-chan."  
  
A wisp of movement- there, to the left. With the last month's   
lessons fresh in his mind, Tamahome ducked as one of the boys   
rushed towards him. Balance lost, the other boy fell allowing the   
young seishi to snag his waist and throw him across the clearing.  
  
Fists on flesh. Tamahome's head rocked as another boy landed a   
punch that sent him reeling. It took a moment for his eyes to   
clear. Once they did, he flipped over kicking the other's legs   
out from under him. The older boy went down as Tama scrambled up,   
body falling into a defensive stance almost subconsciously.  
  
"What the...?" The other boys backed away, uncertain now that   
their prey had started fighting back.  
  
"I told you to leave me alone," he gasped.   
  
"Kishuku!"  
  
The sharp voice cut through the falling darkness causing all five   
boys to start. The two Tamahome had grounded were now just   
getting on their feet, staggering dazedly. The man's stern gaze   
settled on the younger boy whose heart sank to his feet.  
  
"Tousan..."  
  
His father's eyes narrowed even more. "All of you!" he barked.   
"Get home!"  
  
Eyes widening, the four scrambled away, two of them nursing their   
bruises, muttering.  
  
Eyes never leaving his son's hunched form, Sou Shiao-Chang felt   
his world spinning away from him. Voice shaking more from a   
gnawing fear than from anger, he ground out the question the   
answer to which, would change their lives forever.  
  
"Where did you learn to fight like that?"  
  
  
~ TBC ~   
  
Author's Notes: Yay! Another one done! With any luck, I'll   
actually finish this thing! Comments and feedback, onegai.   
tsukinouta@yahoo.com   
  
Credits for this go to Felicia, aka Tomo no Miko, whose site I   
used to get the info regarding Tokaki, such as his real name,   
etc. *bows* Visit her site at:   
http://www.sempai.org/~felicia/fushigi.html   
  
The names for both of Tama's parents are obviously made up. I got   
them from the Kalabarians Site http://www.kalabarians.com . I   
tried to pick names that matched the personalities I created for   
them so you can look them up there if you get bored.  
  
And as always, thanks to Quicksilver and Saishi for doing the   
betas for me. You guys really know how to deflate an ego! ^_~   
Arigato! *hugs*  
  
Disclaimer: All original materials belong to their respective   
owners. Fushigi Yuugi belongs to Watase Yuu and a bunch of big   
companies. No copyright infringement is intended. The story is   
mine and I would appreciate an email asking me for permission   
before posting it anywhere else.   
  
Copyright © October 8, 2000 by Moonsong. All Rights Reserved.   
http://www.midnightrevolution.org/moonsong/  



	7. Legacy

@-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;---   
  
  
  
** SPOILERS FOR EP. 40 AND ON **   
  
  
  
@-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;---   
  
  
The Calling   
By Moonsong   
tsukinouta@yahoo.com   
  
  
Part 7: Legacy  
  
A light rain started to fall as father and son glared at each   
other across the slowly muddying road.   
  
"I asked you a question, Kishuku. Where did you learn to fight   
like that?"  
  
"I thought you were sick..." the boy evaded, picking up the   
packet of medicine he had dropped during the scuffle and   
clutching it like a lifeline.  
  
The older man's eyes darkened. He didn't take lightly to an   
announcement of his own weakness in the middle of the street,   
never mind that they were the only ones within earshot.  
  
"You were late in returning and your mother was worried. She   
didn't want to see you stagger home covered in mud and bruises."  
  
"I can take care of myself!" Kishuku protested.  
  
His father's eyes narrowed. "Not up until recently."  
  
"Why would you care all of a sudden? You never did before."  
  
"I thought you needed to learn to stand up for yourself! Not be   
such a weakling!"  
  
Kishuku shot him a pointed glare, his battered confidence rising.   
"And now that I can fight back, you're mad."  
  
"I told you to stay away from that man," his father growled. "He   
is nothing but trouble."  
  
"Tousan, he's teaching me," he pleaded, eyes begging his father   
to understand.  
  
"To fight! I wanted you to learn to stand up for yourself! Not be   
a bully!"  
  
The young boy shook his head. "Iie," he said softly. "He's   
teaching me how to become a Suzaku no seishi."  
  
"He does not have the right to train you."  
  
"It doesn't matter." The words were spoken in a whisper and at   
first, Shiao thought he had misheard.  
  
"Nani?"  
  
Kishuku looked up at his father, his young eyes clear. "Whether   
he trains me or not, I will have to go when the time comes. Don't   
you see? This is my chance to do something with my life; to BE   
somebody- not just a farmer in some unknown village..."  
  
"What do you know?" Shiao bit out, the unintentional barb hitting   
far closer to home than he would have liked. "You're just a   
child."  
  
"I am a Suzaku seishi."  
  
When his father remained silent, Tamahome knew he had scored a   
point. It was one he didn't feel any victory in. Defeated, even   
though he had won, he dropped his eyes and sighed.  
  
"Gomen nasai, tousan."  
  
With that, he turned and started walking away, effectively ending   
the conversation. Shiao could only gape after him.  
  
"Why are you doing this?"  
  
The new voice caused him to whirl. A lithe figure jumped from the   
shadows, hitting the dirt with barely a sound.  
  
"I didn't give you permission to begin training him," Shiao   
hissed before thinking, his eyes trained to where his small son   
had disappeared down the hill.  
  
"Well, that hardly answers my question," Lan smirked and crossed   
his arms.  
  
"I don't have to answer to you."  
  
The former seishi sighed. He fully expected to argue with the   
addle-brained fool over who exactly had to answer to whom for at   
least another hour or so. What a waste of time.  
  
"You should not have trained him."  
  
Surprise briefly flickered over the older man's hawkish face.   
'Back to the point, eh?' he thought amusedly. Perhaps there was   
some hope for the man after all. "The choice wasn't yours to   
make," he replied blandly. This seemed familiar. He prayed for   
patience.  
  
"Like hell it wasn't! He is still my son!"  
  
Lan clenched his teeth, forcibly keeping his mouth from spewing   
things just to irritate the younger man. In his seishi days, he   
would have jumped the boy's father right then and there and   
pounded him until he either saw the light or saw stars. Either   
way should leave him with a new understanding of the way things   
worked.  
  
But this wasn't like the old times. And so much more was at   
stake. Lan studied the other man a moment before speaking. "Why   
are you so afraid to let your son go?"  
  
The question took him by surprise. It was the second time that   
day he'd been at a loss for words.  
  
Lan was unimpressed. "Think about that. Before you lose your   
son."  
  
"I will not give him up!" The words were passionate but not as   
vehement as before. Perhaps he was getting through after all.  
  
The former Byakko seishi met his gaze. "You won't have to. He   
will leave on his own. He is a Suzaku seishi and will follow his   
heart when the time comes." He spared the man one last glance,   
then turned to resume his way home.   
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Sou Shiao-Chang stared up at the ceiling, his mind swirling with   
a million different emotions he didn't feel like sorting out. His   
wife had given him a solid tongue-lashing the minute she had   
entered, most of which he hadn't paid much attention to.   
  
Not that he'd been trying to ignore her, it's just that he   
already knew what she was going to say. Balefully, he turned   
towards the window, glaring at a set of stars in the southern   
region of the sky.  
  
Tamahomeboshi. His son's stars. Even now, they twinkled in a   
playful dance, befitting their human counterpart's sunny   
personality. Thinking about his young child forced his lips into   
a small smile. How proud he was of that boy! Constantly cheerful,   
always ready to help out, loving, and devoted to his family   
unlike most boys his age; Kishuku was a gift to any parent.   
  
In fact, it was a gift he didn't think he deserved. And now that   
he had him, he wanted to make sure he would never have to do   
without him.  
  
// What can you offer him? // Lan's feline face floated before   
him, his already narrowed eyes accusing.  
  
'What could I offer him?' Shiao mused, resting his weary head   
back on the straw and cloth pillow. 'A profitable trade as a   
farmer?'  
  
Even he had to admit his young son was too precocious for that,   
even if he had wanted to follow in his father's footsteps.   
Kishuku was destined for something else, something greater. He   
could feel it in his bones, see it every time he looked into his   
son's eyes. Kishuku would be miserable if forced to lead the life   
he was leading now. And Shiao wanted so much more for him.  
  
So why was he so vehemently opposed to his son becoming a seishi?   
Rationalizations flooded his mind, a raging current through a   
newly opened dam.   
  
'I don't want him forced into something he doesn't understand.   
That man has no right to teach him against my wishes. He is my   
son. He's too young. I don't want him to get hurt. I don't want   
him to get killed. I'm afraid-'  
  
That last thought stopped him short.  
  
'I'm afraid... dear gods, have I been that selfish?'  
  
Finally, what Kishuku and Lan had been telling him, no, asking   
him to understand was coming into sharp focus. He had become what   
he had feared most. Memories of a long-forgotten day filled his   
mind, the events calling up the same amount of hurt as if it had   
been yesterday.  
  
-- -- -- --  
  
"Otousan, I..."  
  
It came faster than he could blink, a rough, hardened hand   
connecting with his cheek, flinging his head backwards. Shiao   
stumbled once, twice, then fell to the floor staring into the   
wrathful gaze of his father. The man stared down at him, eyes   
widened with shock, breath coming in sharp gasps.   
  
"Yamete!"  
  
All at once, he was enveloped in soft, warm arms. "Kaasan," he   
whispered hoarsely. His throat was numb with pain and shock and   
he struggled to hold his tears back. He would not cry. Not in   
front of him.  
  
"Half of this is your fault, onna. Filling him with these silly   
dreams and foolish ideals. He is MY son and he WILL take over   
this farm!"  
  
His mother was crying. He hated seeing her cry. Tenderly, he   
reached up and wiped the tears from her eyes, forcing a smile   
through his aching mouth. "It'll be all right, kaasan," he lied.   
And for that moment, forced himself to believe it. Anything to   
take the pain from her eyes. He knew his father took out his   
anger on her more often than not. If he was mad at him, she might   
be spared.   
  
Nodding softly, she smiled at him, an acknowledgement of his   
bluff. Apparently, she could pretend just as well. "Shiao..."   
  
"Go, mother. It will be all right," he whispered again, with a   
lightness that didn't quite reach his eyes. She nodded, and with   
one last fearful glance at her husband, fled the room.  
  
Shiao didn't watch her go; merely turned his head to face his   
father again. The man was watching his wife retreat, unsure for a   
moment whether to go after her or not. Shiao decided to give him   
something else to deal with. "I don't want your farm," he stated   
quietly.  
  
The man turned, his eyes blazing. His hands curled into fists.   
The beating began.  
  
-- -- -- --  
  
In the end, it hadn't mattered. Two months after that, a week   
before he had been planning to sneak away to study another trade,   
the fool had gotten reckless and had been killed in a bar brawl.   
Having no one else to turn to, Shiao took over the duties of the   
farm and cared for his mother. In the summer of his fifteenth   
year, she died. Already too old to be apprenticed to another   
master, Shiao had stayed on the farm, the only thing he knew, and   
thus became his father's successor.  
  
And now, he was becoming that and more. He was becoming his   
father. His heart contracted painfully as he remembered his   
actions ever since Lan had arrived and nearly cried out in   
anguish. 'What have I done? What have I become?' The answer   
terrified him.  
  
He had to do something. Now. The ghost of his father would not   
taint his son's life any longer.  
  
That half-formed thought in his mind, he scrambled off the bed   
and stumbled to the room his two sons shared. "Kishuku! Kishuku!"  
  
The bundle on the bed didn't move. Shiao seized the blanket.  
  
"Kishuku-"  
  
The boy was gone.  
  
  
~ TBC ~   
  
Author's Notes: There's something fitting about listening to the   
soundtrack from both the Street Fighter Animated Movie and the TV   
series while writing this fic. Out of all the seishi, Tamahome is   
most like a street fighter- in fact, he's been involved in a few   
street brawls himself, ne? *laughs* In any case, I'm just glad I   
was able to find the inspiration to finish this much. One more   
chapter to go, everyone!  
  
*smirk* Or should I stop now before I ruin this story further?  
  
Credits for this go to Felicia, aka Tomo no Miko, whose site I   
used to get the info regarding Tokaki, such as his real name,   
etc. *bows* Visit her site at:   
http://www.sempai.org/~felicia/fushigi.html   
  
Disclaimer: All original materials belong to their respective   
owners. Fushigi Yuugi belongs to Watase Yuu and a bunch of big   
companies. No copyright infringement is intended. The story is   
mine and I would appreciate an email asking me for permission   
before posting it anywhere else.   
  
Copyright © December 30, 2000 by Moonsong. All Rights Reserved.   
http://www.midnightrevolution.org/moonsong/  
  



	8. Tamahome

@-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;---   
  
  
  
** SPOILERS FOR EP. 40 AND ON **   
  
  
  
@-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;--- @-;---   
  
  
The Calling   
By Moonsong   
tsukinouta@yahoo.com   
  
  
Part 8: Tamahome  
  
He was too late.   
  
"Kishuku!"   
  
Shiao tore out of the house in a mad rush, calling his son's   
name. "Kishuku, where are you?"  
  
"Shiao! What is the matter?" Ai-wen scrambled outside, having   
been roused by her husband's call.  
  
Shiao faced his wife frantically, eyes none-too-sane. "Kishuku-   
he is not in bed."  
  
Her eyes widened. "He..."  
  
"I have to find him!"  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Kishuku was shivering. He had left intending to go directly to   
his teacher's home and beg the couple to take him in. He knew his   
father would be upset but there was no reasoning with the pull in   
his heart. The calling was too strong. He hoped that someday, his   
father would understand. He just wasn't cut out to be a farmer.   
He'd been branded by a god from birth, for Suzaku's sake. Even   
his father couldn't deny THAT. And if he tried to, all Kishuku   
would have to do was get mad enough that his symbol would show.   
Considering the circumstances, he didn't think that would be too   
hard.  
  
A few minutes later, he caught sight of the enormous tree   
standing guard over the Hahm residence. Breathing a sigh of   
relief, he clattered up the wooden steps and rapped on the door.   
No one answered. He knocked harder. Still nothing. Finally, he   
pounded on the door. "Sensei!!  
  
There was no answer.  
  
Biting his lip, Kishuku slid to the floor, bravely holding his   
tears in check. Where were they? Why weren't they answering?   
Surely Hahm-sensei wouldn't have just left without SAYING   
something! Maybe there was another explanation. Maybe something   
had happened to them. Sniffling, the little boy ground his damp   
eyes with his fists and tried to think. Crying was for babies and   
girls. He was a Suzaku no seishi. He would have to be strong.   
  
With one last shake of his head, Kishuku stood, determination   
etched on his young face. "Think," he muttered to himself. "What   
would sensei do?" Stepping back, Kishuku studied the door. It   
didn't look like it had been broken into. Maybe the couple just   
had to go somewhere and left a note. Reaching for the latch, he   
almost pushed the door open but stopped.   
  
What if there were bandits in the surrounding woods?  
  
He remembered his father mentioning that a pack of them had been   
seen near the village. Eyes narrowing, he quickly dropped down,   
just enough to pitch most of his body into darkness. His training   
took over and he slowly inched his way to one side of the porch   
where there was another entrance to the basement. Once under the   
house, he could take a look around without anyone seeing him. He   
had almost made it to the second door when a hand grabbed his   
collar and yanked him up.  
  
There was no time to think. Tamahome grabbed the arm holding him   
and swung his legs forward, dislodging the man's grip. He fell to   
the ground hard, the impact knocking the wind out of his lungs.   
'RUN!' his mind screamed but his legs were having trouble moving.   
He shook his head groggily. He had to get away from here. He was   
just beginning to get up when heavily muscled arms encircled him   
in a vise grip.  
  
"You won't get away that easily," the man growled, his breath   
stinking of alcohol and something rotten. Tamahome struggled but   
his arms were pinned down. "I'm sure your parents'd pay a bundle   
to get you back."  
  
Tama thought fast. "I'm an orphan!" he hissed and let out an ear-  
curdling screech. There was no point in staying quiet now. If Lan   
or anyone was around, they'd surely hear and come to help. A   
grime covered hand clapped over his mouth, silencing him.   
  
"Shaddup!"  
  
"Get your hands off my son!"  
  
No. It couldn't be. Tama's heart sank even as the bandit turned   
to face the newcomer. 'No, tousan,' he pleaded silently, 'you're   
just going to get hurt...'  
  
"This yours?"  
  
"Yes," Shiao said, advancing slowly. "Now let him go."  
  
By that time, the rest of the bandits emerged, two from the   
house, four in the woods. Tamahome looked surveyed them, fear   
crawling from the pit of his stomach to wrap cold tendrils around   
his heart. Even if he were a fully trained seishi, he might have   
trouble taking out that many. And he was only a child. Somehow,   
he had to get both him and his father out of this.  
  
The bandit laughed. "We got uses for kids like him."   
  
Shiao's eyes narrowed. "Let. Him. Go."  
  
Without warning, one of the men from the trees launched himself   
at Shiao.  
  
"Tousan!" Tama screamed as his father went down under the   
assault. Shiao had never been a fighter. He'd never actually seen   
him stand up to ANYthing until now. Struggling, Tama kicked his   
captor again. No effect. This wasn't supposed to be happening.   
This COULDN'T be happening. In desperation, he bit the hand   
holding his mouth shut.  
  
This time, he was rewarded with a scream.  
  
The bandit dropped him again but he was ready for it this time.   
Freed, Tama scrambled away, his eyes darting back to his father   
on the ground a few feet away. The moonlight caught something   
silver. A knife! Just as his brain registered the possible   
danger, the blade came down. Shiao twisted to the left, the knife   
embedding itself into his leg instead of his chest.  
  
"IIEEE!!" The scream poured from his throat as his father's blood   
stained the dirt where he and Lan had once trained. Fire shot up   
and down his veins ending at a point in the middle of his   
forehead. His mind howled with rage but it was driven down by the   
thirst for something bigger: vengeance. Bathed in crimson light,   
he charged into clearing.  
  
"LET HIM GO!" Eyes blazing, Tamahome grabbed the bandit's leg and   
flipped him off Shiao, throwing him on his back. Shiao scuttled   
away. The man scrambled up, fury written all over his face.   
Growling, he lumbered forward to grab the boy.  
  
Tamahome ducked under his attacker's legs and came up on his   
other side. Before the man could turn around, he jumped high in   
the air and aimed a kick at the bandit's back.   
  
Shiao watched his son fight with growing horror. There was no   
sanity in those eyes. The bandit was on his knees. He was   
murmuring something. Shiao's throat tightened. He had to put a   
stop to this.   
  
"Kishuku..."  
  
Tamahome wasn't listening. His face expressionless, the little   
seishi went up to the bleeding man, grabbed two fistfuls of hair,   
and jammed his knee into the man's face. There was a sickening   
crack. The bandit collapsed, blood gushing from his nose.   
  
The others stared with shock, first at their fallen comrade, then   
at the little boy who had caused it. His small figure still   
glowed an angry red. Eyes widening, they all did what any half-  
brained bandit would do in such a situation. They ran.  
  
Tamahome watched them impassively. His arms lowered but his eyes   
never left the retreating bandits. On the ground, Shiao could   
only stare in shock. He'd seen the sign of Suzaku only once   
before, and it had not glowed this intensely. His son seemed   
consumed with power and for a moment, he felt fear strike him   
again. This time, of losing Kishuku. Oh, he knew, as all parents   
did, that their offspring would all have to leave the nest   
someday. But to lose him like this... panic gripped him   
momentarily. Kishuku's eyes were still scarlet.  
  
"Kishuku?"  
  
No response.  
  
"Kishuku!"  
  
Nothing. Not even a blink.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Shiao tried one more time. "TAMAHOME!"  
  
The boy snapped to attention. "Hai?" He blinked a few times and   
the red glow faded as abruptly as it had come. "Tousan?" Glazed   
eyes cleared and focused on Shiao. Shock registered on the boy's   
face. "Tousan!"  
  
Kishuku ran to his father, his eyes streamed tears as he knelt   
next to him. "Tousan! Daijoubu? I'll get help! I'll-"  
  
"Daijoubu Kishuku. I'll be fine. Just a scratch." Bracing an arm   
on the earth, Shiao sat up gingerly, wincing as he moved his leg.  
  
"Doushite, tousan?" Kishuku was openly weeping now, his courage   
melting away at the sight of his father's injury. If only he had   
been faster! If only... "Gomen, tousan. I shouldn't have run   
away. This is all my fault!"  
  
Shiao stilled his lips with a touch. "It is said, that a man's   
heart is made strong to protect the ones he loves. As long as you   
learn but that one lesson, I shall be proud of you."  
  
Like a brilliant sun emerging from behind a storm cloud,   
Kishuku's face started to light. Tears still flowed down his   
smooth cheeks, but this time, of joy. "Arigato, tousan," he   
whispered, clasped his father's rough hand into his smaller one.   
His father understood. And he still loved him. For the first time   
since he showed the mark of Suzaku, Kishuku felt really, truly,   
happy.   
  
Well, as soon as his father's leg was better anyway.  
  
"Tousan, can you walk? I should fetch okaasan and the healer,"   
Kishuku said worriedly.  
  
"Hai, hai. Sometimes you worry like your mother," Shiao grumped.   
Son or not, he still wasn't used to admitting a weakness in front   
of anyone. His leg hurt horribly but he could walk. Thankfully,   
the healer's hut wasn't too far away.   
  
"It's just because we care about you."  
  
Shiao paused, his eyes misting. He took a deep breath and turned   
to his son. "I love you, Tamahome."   
  
Was it his imagination or did his son just start glowing a bit   
more? It must not have been for Kishuku suddenly wrapped his arms   
around his father's waist. Awkwardly, Shiao returned the hug,   
patting his back, unsure of what else to do. He wasn't exactly   
one for public displays of affection. His son's next words were   
all the reward he needed.  
  
"I love you too, Father."  
----------  
  
Unnoticed by the happy pair, two figures perched in the trees   
nearby, having witnessed the entire spectacle.  
  
"Well. That turned out much better than I expected."  
  
"He's going to hate me though."  
  
"Why do you care? I doubt we'll ever see him again. He'll grow   
up, find his miko, fight the good fight, and get old just like   
you."  
  
"I am not old!"  
  
"Che! Says you!"  
  
"If I'm old, then what are you, woman?"  
  
"Young and beautiful."  
  
"You-"  
  
"And if you say anything to counter that, I will beat your head   
in."  
  
Silence.  
  
Then, "Do you really think we'll see him again?"  
  
With a roguish grin, Lan swung down from the branch and regarded   
his wife with that impish smile. "I know we will. I just hope I'm   
in good enough shape to hold him off when he tries to get back at   
me for leaving him." He extended his hand out to her, knowing   
full well that she could get out of the tree herself but wanting   
to be chivalrous anyway.  
  
Smirking, Dourim took the hand and jumped down. "Such an ego. I   
doubt he'll even remember you."  
  
"We'll see about that."  
  
Having successfully fulfilled their mission, the two Byakko no   
seishi took to the road hand in hand, heading the opposite   
direction as Tamahome and his father. If and when they did meet   
again, they were confident that Tamahome would become the great   
warrior the prophecies ordained. He may not become the richest,   
the smartest, or even the most talented of the group, but he had   
the heart of a seishi. That was all that mattered.  
  
  
~ END ~  
  
Author's Notes: *dies* Oh. My. Sweet. Suzaku. I can't believe it.   
I'VE FINALLY FINISHED A MULTI-PART FIC!!!!! XD XD *bounces around   
excitedly* I know, I know, this is like, nothing to some of you   
but I've never finished anything longer than a 14 page oneshot   
since I've started writing fanfiction so this, THIS is... I can't   
even describe how insanely HAPPY I am. ^O^ I've been staring at   
this last chapter for almost 10 freaking months! ;; I'm sooo   
glad it's finally done! XD Comments and feedback are always   
appreciated but not necessary. ^_^ tsukinouta@yahoo.com   
  
Most of this chapter was inspired by Tamahome's first image song,   
"Ai to iu na no Tatakai ni," specifically the following lines:   
  
Chichi no kotoba wo (( I've remembered ))  
Omoidashite'ta (( My father's words ))  
Subete nakushita (( Even in those lonely days ))  
Kodoku na hibi mo (( When everything was lost. ))  
  
Otoko no mune wa (( "If the heart of a man ))  
Itoshii hito no (( Can become a shield ))  
Tate ni naru mono (( For his beloved, ))  
Sore dake de ii (( That alone is enough." ))  
  
And fittingly enough, it's playing on Winamp as I write this   
note. XD The above was romanized and translated by Takayama   
Miyuki (Miyuki@jlyrics.org) from http://www.jlyrics.org. Used   
with permission.  
  
Other credits for this go to Felicia, aka Tomo no Miko, whose   
site I used to get the info regarding Tokaki, such as his real   
name, etc. *bows* Visit her site at:   
http://www.sempai.org/~felicia/fushigi.html   
  
The names for both of Tama's parents are obviously made up. I got   
them from the Kalabarians Site http://www.kalabarians.com . I   
tried to pick names that matched the personalities I created for   
them so you can look them up there if you get bored.  
  
Disclaimer: All original materials belong to their respective   
owners. Fushigi Yuugi belongs to Watase Yuu and a bunch of big   
companies. No copyright infringement is intended. The story is   
mine and I would appreciate an email asking me for permission   
before posting it anywhere else.   
  
Copyright © October 9, 2001 by Moonsong. All Rights Reserved.   
http://www.midnightrevolution.org/moonsong/  



End file.
